


Deliver Us Into Temptations

by MattedZamo



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Wow, a miracle happened here you guys, ah don't you love unresolved issues with the catholic church?, anyway, can we believe that it took like a year for me to actually write and post a fic in under a week?, heavy smut, there's a heavy(ish?) plot twist at the end so whoop whoop, trixie is a building inspector that drives her insane, uh Katya is an english teacher at a catholic school, you're gonna see the same prayer like five times throughout this piece and im really not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 11:29:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19004884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MattedZamo/pseuds/MattedZamo
Summary: “F-Father Grant! Oh.” Katya blushed when her voice bounced off the walls, but it got his attention “Who’s the person back there?”“Oh right-” he sighed as he took his glasses out his pants pocket, wrapped in a little green cloth so he can clean them “-uh building inspector-” Katya watched as he put them on, and tried not to think about the sweat suddenly sliding down the back of her neck, down her spine, and collecting into the hooks of her bra “-you’ll be seeing her around so, get used to the gum popping and click clacking high heels. Goodnight Katya, may God be with you.”“And also with you.” Katya murmured once Father Grant turned to head to the room behind the altar.-Fifth grade English teacher Katya meets building inspector Trixieone timeafter being forced to end her class, and for her, it all goes downhill.





	Deliver Us Into Temptations

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome.  
> First things first, thank you to my Gay Wonder Steph for being there for and with me on this, and a thanks to my arms for always being by my side, my legs for keeping me upright, and my hips for never lying. I hope you enjoy and if you don't than.

_ “Our father who art in heaven-” _

Click. Click. Click.

Katya shook her head and started up again.

_ “-hallowed be thy name-” _

Click. Click. Pop!

She huffed and tried again.

_ “-thy kingdom come.” _

Another pop from someone’s gum and Katya gave up for good, groaning as her head hit her hands folded in front of her face. Her hair flew out from its place from behind her ears, and she wondered why she had bothered to cut it so short if it was just going to fly all over her face at all times. 

“Frustrated my child?” 

Katya picked up her head from her folded hands and looked up to see the father, Father Grant, looking down on her with a smile on his face. “Who is that? Back there click clacking her heels and smacking gum?”  

Father Grants voice was low when it was just him and the teachers and sisters of Saint Peters church and school, and Katya tried desperately to keep hers as low as his. “curious are we?” He laughed softly 

“I just want to finish my afternoon prayers before I go home.”

Father Grant moved around the divider between the first pew and the alter to sit next to her. He had kind hazel eyes, and he kept his salt and pepper beard well trimmed. He always smells nice, like a mixture of earthy essential oils and an expensive cologne. She always felt comfortable around him, and it tended to help that he always made sure to maintain an acceptable distance between him and everyone else. “You’ve been doing a lot of praying lately, Katya. Is everything okay?”

Last nights noises, lude moans from women she’ll never know blasting from her laptop, rang loudly in between her ears as she looked deep in his kind eyes as they waited for her answer. “Yes. I’ve just been praying for extra patience, midterms and all.” 

Her hands wrung heavily in her lap as she sat and watched Father Grant watch her features, and she hoped her blush wasn’t showing. It’d probably be impossible, since she hasn’t taken any sun recently, but she liked hoping. Father Grant chuckled and she joined in “ah yes-” he shook his head a little before looking forward, with a little look of love as he set his gaze up to the Virgin Mary “-the children have been a bit difficult to teach this year haven’t they? Good luck. Would you like a bit of advice?” 

Katya nodded, worrying her lip in between her teeth “sure?”

“Pray harder.” Father Grant laughed and got up to head to the back. 

“F-Father Grant! Oh.” Katya blushed when her voice bounced off the walls, but it got his attention “Who’s the person back there?”

“Oh right-” he sighed as he took his glasses out his pants pocket, wrapped in a little green cloth so he can clean them “-uh building inspector-” Katya watched as he put them on, and tried not to think about the sweat suddenly sliding down the back of her neck, down her spine, and collecting into the hooks of her bra “-you’ll be seeing her around so, get used to the gum popping and _click clacking_ _high heels_. Goodnight Katya, may God be with you.”

“And also with you.” Katya murmured once Father Grant turned to head to the room behind the altar. 

-

_ Our Father who art in heaven,  _

_ hallowed be thy name.  _

_ Thy kingdom come.  _

_ Thy will be done,  _

_ on earth as it is in heaven.  _

_ Give us this day our daily bread;  _

_ and forgive us our trespasses,  _

_ as we forgive those who trespass against us;  _

_ and lead us not into temptation,  _

_ but deliver us from evil. _

“Amen.” 

Katya gasped the word out as she removed the pillow from her face after her lungs started to burn when she finished mentally saying her prayers. Her laptop sat open, yet asleep on her bed next to her, her lessons plans waiting patiently. Or impatiently, she wasn’t sure. Fifth graders didn’t care much about what Katya put on the board and said for their notes, they all were waiting to talk to crushes and go to lunch. 

Fourth through seventh grade were the kinds of grades where it was literal hell on earth for everyone involved, and legally, no one could do anything about it. So she was stuck coming up with a study guide for tests that were two weeks away and upon further looking, she saw she had two more topics to cover. Of course, not all of the kids were bad, like for example sweet Jenna and Jamie, twins who were trying out the whole finding themselves thing. There was also Damian, who had to transfer from Peru. He knew a good deal of English, but the rules and exceptions and special cases tripped him up. Every class he always left confused and frustrated, and she knew she’d have to take extra special care in presenting the material over the next two weeks so he could pass on his own. 

Katya sighed, “dear God.” 

She rolled her eyes. 

Katya rolled out of bed, taking her laptop with her to go charge downstairs in the living room desk as she bullshitted around the house. She wasn’t hungry, so she skipped the kitchen. She wasn’t so bored to go to the basement and do laundry, so she passed by the door as she exited the kitchen without as much as a second thought. She knew what she wanted to do, what she had been doing all week actually, but  _ maybe _ she should give it a rest for the night. 

She had a class of 20 fifth graders who were  _ so excited _ to learn about rule exceptions in the English language, and she needed to cover the  _ i before e except after c _ rule that were driving their papers to get redmarked so often. 

With shit TV in the background, it wasn’t hard to get started and keep up the momentum until it filled up the 45 minute time she had with her kids. By midnight, all she had to do was cut it down and simplify some of the unfamiliar language and she was ready for bed. 

-

Becoming a teacher was always what Katya had wanted, it was the only career choice she held on steadfast to since childhood. There was that one time, though, when she thought of being a punk rock singer, but everyone goes through that weird thing at 13, and by 14 she was a proper young lady with a clear head high on her shoulders. 

She loved studying and she loved teaching others new things. Everyday for her was a challenge to figure out what was that  _ one thing _ her parents didn’t know and made it her  _ ultimate _ mission to learn it and teach it to them. Her parents were patient with her all the time, and their old father, Father David, always joke there was no need for him to pray that she excelled in her tests because she basically had the A in her report card anyway. But he never  _ didn’t _ pray with her for good grades. 

They paid off. 

At 24, her biggest accomplishment was becoming the English teacher at the school a part of her old parish, and it made her happy that her parents became a fountain of pride when she got accepted.  _ All those years, _ she always thought,  _ were never in vain.  _ She was generally a good child, and her parents never pushed her so church could be a big part of her life, but it wasn’t like they said they’d be just as proud of all she did if she wasn’t as involved as she was. 

She had went away to Saint Matthew’s College mere months after graduating high school -the only part of her educational experience that had nothing to do with the church- paying buttloads to get a degree in something  _ she _ wanted to do but in a way that’d appease her  _ parents _ . It was a good school, they taught her well, and her religion classes were genuinely interesting, usually diving into the history  _ behind _ why things they way they were by a professor who was  _ not _ shy about their indifference to religion. She was able to work as a librarian and manage playing volleyball. Her parents were proud that she was active during that time, but they had long stopped questioning why she never told them about any of their practices. 

Saint Matthew’s College was an all girl four year private education institute tucked away from the busy and impure city to the edge of the foresty part of the mountains. It was a three hour car ride away from home, and the administrators were basically there in case the issue was to big for the girls to handle themselves. 

So all in all, girls held rule. 

Katya knew she liked girls,  _ loved _ girls, loved how they already knew that if it wasn’t for them, the world would fall apart, and how they owned it. She had long since knew that it was to be a secret, never to be told or whispered or communicate it in any way, shape or form. It was a sin, essentially, in the eyes of her parents, and all the parents of the girls and in the eyes of everyone above the age of 40, but sin was what made things  _ sexy. _

Nights after practice, in the showers and in the lockers, nights when the student aids could close the library after being entrusted with the keys, periods of time after one class ended and before another was set to begin, parties and celebrations and study groups and hanging out because one or more were lonely. 

But of course, she was there until she was 22, and it was practically natural law that once the car filled to the brim with all the stuff that was on your side of the dorm room left the grounds, you were good, pure, untouched, nice and straight. 

And that’s what she was and is.

But  _ damn _ did she miss Violet, with her tongue and nipple piercings and endless supplies of sex toys and even deeper knowledge of everything kinky. 

It wasn’t hard ignoring pretty much what was her entire identity, if she lied hard enough. Staring at a woman? Her makeup was done really nicely, Katya would like to compliment them. Her hair looks really soft to the touch? Well Katya is a sane person and sane people like soft things and like touching what is soft. Women in general? Katya just thinks they’re pretty neat. 

Getting ready for bed, Katya said the same prayer in her head over and over again, through her shower, and drying herself. When she lotion up her body and put her silk nightie on with no underwear underneath. When getting under the covers overwhelmed her and she gripped the sheets tight in her fists. When she opened and closed and opened and closed and opened and closed her go to video folder. 

_ and lead us not into temptation, _ the words rang loud and buzzing in between her ears as she remembered Violet sucking her clit for the last time an hour before her parents were to pick her up. 

_ but deliver us from evil _ , her breath hitched at her third orgasm, with her hand cramping and her alarm counting down to blaring in three hours and the end of her prayer came with her. 

“Amen.”

-

Tuesday, surprisingly, went smoother than Katya imagined. 

_ Oh sure _ , walking into the room five minutes late and having to waste twenty minutes in getting her class to pick up the papers strewn all over the room took away from one of the important sections of English, but the majority always outweighed the minority, and the majority had went to the  _ building inspector. _

Five minutes, _five_ _minutes_ , after the clean up was done, while Katya was trying to segway into the lesson and out of yawning every four seconds, she heard the familiar thud, thud, thud of Father Grants worn leather shoes and the quickly irritating click, clack, pop, click, clack, pop of the woman from the day before. 

Lovely.

He had knocked before entering, as he always did when he had to interrupt a lesson, and in he went with the biggest blonde woman in tow that Katya had ever seen. She was  _ tall _ with audacious curves, hair that seem to reach the skies above and her ass below, and makeup that looked like it was painted specifically for someone who was seated 200 seats above the stage of a dimly lit theater. 

“Hi. I need this room cleared please. Father, any place I can put these shining pupils while I take a look around?” 

Father Grant cleared his throat, getting the attention of all the kids who were still stuck on watching miss walking M.A.C store “I can take them to the auditorium downstairs for the rest of the class. Wouldn’t want to disturb their education.” He turned to her, the first of the pair to actually visually acknowledge her since they walked in “Miss Zamo, will that be all right with you?” 

“Uh not really, since we’re you know preparing for  _ midterms _ , but sure. They can be excused if need be.” Katyas hip was cocked against the old wooden desk that was bolted to the floor, still watching the Father and the building inspector near the doorway. In reality, midterms were more of a marker for  _ teachers _ than for  _ students _ , but she sort of liked seeing the students who didn’t care for school squirm under the pressure of an “important” grade. 

“Perfect!” Ms. MAC store clapped her hands once excitedly, her  _ large _ hands, her large hands with short nails, her short nails painted white and- “Father? D’ya mind, please?” 

Father Grant nodded his head once, and all the kids gathered their bags and headed out behind him, quietly grumbling about having to climb down all three flights just to sit in the gym. 

“So. Building Inspector?” 

“Trixie.” 

_ Trixie _ had flung her head to look from a corner of the room to where Katya stodd, her hair flinging behind her from on her shoulder. Her steps were heavy on the wood, and she kept popping her gum, the pops bouncing off the near empty walls, the sound of her heels pounding in Katya’s ears with each precise step. “Do you know any history of this school?”

“Excuse me?” She hadn’t realized when  _ Trixie _ had made it to the back of the room, her eyes blurring and unfocusing with every wide step.

“What history do you know? Of this school?” Trixie called out to her, waiting, expectantly for Katyas answer. 

“Uh. It was here before I was born?”

Trixie chuckled, her hands on the edge of the desk as she hung her head to laugh. Katya could feel the baritone travel through the old floor boards, through her Vans and socks, up her legs and through her skeletal frame to bounce in her head as if it were handballs thrown  around. 

“A building with this many issues that can only come with loads of time, I’d  _ hope _ the school was older than you.”

“Yeah.” 

She felt weak, she  _ was _ weak. She had to sit down, to break the look that  _ Trixie _ had on her very soul, look at her notes that she was just now noticing was riddled with spelling errors, and the irony had just tickled her pink when the  _ pounding _ steps rattled her core once again. She didn’t dare look up, tried forcing the steps out so she could read what was on the paper, when she didn’t have to because the pounding had stop, the last one so close to her it nearly brought her down. 

“Miss Za-”

“-molodchikova.” Katya finished for her automatically. Besides her parents and Father Grant, no one else in the school staff or the church could pronounce her last name, but she liked it and she was proud of it, so it never bothered her to correct or finish her name for people. 

“Right. Are you okay? You seem a bit, I don’t know? Tired?” 

Katya was tired. Tired of the ringing that hadn’t left her head since Trixie had first started popping her gum in her room. Tired of the on again off again pounding that kept throwing her core off center. Tired of the perfume of Trixie strangling her every sense. And just tired in general. 

“Yeah I am tired-” she allowed herself to look up at Trixie, and forced herself to continue speaking instead of succumbing to the disturbingly bright and springy eyes of the woman on the other side of her desk, resting her ass on the desk where Damien was assigned to sit “-long night. Student work and planning and...yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“yeah.”

“Ok.” Trixie lifted herself off the desk, looking at her one more time before breathing in deep and exhaling slowly. “I’ll see you around.”

Trixie pounded her way out the door, and Katya slunk down to the floor so she could feel the cool denim of her favorite jeans against the overheated skin of her cheeks. 

-

Katya can remember the first time she had ever tasted alcohol and the first time she had ever gotten drunk. The latter was actually a better memory, but good lessons came from both. 

When she was 16, her father let her have a sip of his whiskey after she kept eyeing his glass trying to figure out what was so appealing about it. He had laughed at her, and told her to quiet down when she kept gagging on the fumes. 

“Your mom doesn't want you to get ‘compromised’, Katya. You don't have to tell her that I let you have a sip.” Her mother had a headache all afternoon, and had went to bed early, but she appreciated the fact that her father stuck to the theatricality of them having a secret. 

When she was 18, she had gotten drunk with her roommate, Violet, on cheap grain alcohol three months after rooming together and that's when they confessed how much they loved girls. The next evening, after a full day hangover, they began their roommate with benefits thing that lasted until Katya left. 

She didn't drink often, only with a group of people, and it was usually a cup of something mixed and a little weaker than others or two. She didn't feel the need to drink at home, no matter how stressful her classes got while she was trying to teach or plan or both. Most teachers were much of the same, although she knew the math and science teachers, Shea and Peppermint, sisters actually, liked doing drunk board games once or twice a month. 

_ Building Inspector Trixie  _ had been breathing down everyone's necks, emptying out classrooms and pounding her feet and popping her gum so the sound could rattle people's eardrums well into 1, 2, 4 o’clock in the morning. Four other classes of hers alone had been emptied, while everyone else's had only been one or two. By Friday night, it was an unspoken unanimous decision to head to the local bar and be naughty teachers for a few hours. Even the sisters, devote women of god who abided by the bible and prayed for forgiveness for every little thing every hour, seemed weary of continuing their vow of sobriety, since Trixie had made their church Trixie stomping grounds number one. 

“So what do you think Katya?” 

Shea’s voice was a bit muffled to Katya, hidden under the bass of the stereos playing songs that sounded like they should be familiar but weren't, and it really didn't help that all Katya kept hearing were the stomps of that woman like constant ringing.  “Huh? About what?” 

Shea rolled her eyes, bringing her Long Island Iced Tea closer to her chest as she leaned forward to Katya once more “about the weather, Katya. What else?!  _ Trixie. _ What do you think of her?” 

“Yeah, didn't like six of your classes get emptied?” Peppermint had come back from the bathroom and picked up where Shea had left off.

“Four!” Katya yelled, her glass, once filled with vodka soda that was more soda than vodka, now sat empty itself and unattended at the bar. 

“What?!”

“Four classes! Only four of my classes got emptied!” She really felt like by the end of the night, she was going to leave with no voice. 

“Same thing!” Shea yelled, slinging an arm around Pep's shoulders while she still remained standing in between her and Katya. 

“Shea! You're the math teacher!” 

“Not for tonight!” Shea yelled back, throwing the rest of her drink back and flagging down the bartender to order something stronger. 

Katya laughed along, despite the ringing in her head increase to an almost deafening degree.

_ Click. _

Katya suppressed a groan as she began looking for exits, but all she could see were bodies, bouncing rhythmically to the beat she could no longer hear, but could still feel. 

_ Clack. _

She vaguely remembers an exit to the far left of her, but that was the back entrance, next to the garbage cans. It smells of everything any living organism could excrete and it made Katya want to vomit. 

_ Pop. _

Her heart was in her throat as she tried to look harder for the correct exit, and sweat began to trickle down her temples at a faster rate. 

_ Katya? _

Was that her?

_ Katya! _

Who was calling her? Why? Was it her time? 

“Katya!” Shea’s voice had come into razor sharp focus, as did all the other sounds of unabashedly unrestrained life that was in the club, and Katya blinked her eyes so they could match her ears. When she finally saw Shea, her face of happiness and peace was replaced with intense worry. Now Katya felt really bad. 

“I-”

“You should probably head home. Do you want me to take you?” 

Katya shook her head, and without another word, kissed Shea’s cheek goodbye, gathered her bag, and went home, only to buy a bottle, drink half, and sleep wondering  _ why her _ . 

-

Pouring rain fell down in sheets across the entire city, but Katya pressed on driving, refraining from saying a prayer. She’s been praying virtually all month non stop, she was sure God could keep her safe from anything with how much she’s been praying. She hadn’t been to over the bridge to the lower side in years, she never had any reason to go; her job, hobbies and family were in close proximity. 

But everything was  _ suffocating _ her, the same smells and people and routine remindng her of who she was from before a month ago. 

She parked in the lot of the unfamiliar church, looking up through her windshield at the imposing gothic crosses and stain glass windows, warped scenes of agony and the beautification of human suffering. 

She  _ must _ be losing her mind to relate to a decorative window pane. 

Katya was soaked by the time she made it around the lot, up the stone stairs, and after trying the fifth out of the six doors, and finally in the center of the aisle leading her to the altar. She dropped down quickly to give a sign of the cross before making her way to the confession booth where Father Arnold was waiting for her. She was glad she had stuck to wearing her Vans, as they made virtually no sound as she stepped lightly across the carpet. 

She didn’t know him, and she wasn’t very popular so that he knew her and knew she “belonged” to a different congregation miles away. 

“Hello child. Do you have something to confess?” 

Katya constantly feels every time she hears a pounding in her head, it’s someone carrying her, stepping one at a time to throwing her over the edge of certain death. First it was Trixie, and now, without hesitation, she’d given the reigns to Father Arnold. 

She sniffles as she talks, is unsure as to if it’s her tears or from being so cold. “Good evening.” She sobs once before composing herself. “Forgive me father for I have sinned.”

“What have you done?”

“I’ve lusted over women. I’ve stopped, I  prayed to God for forgiveness, fasted and abstained. I found clarity, I did.”

“But you’re lusting again?”

“ _ Yes. _ ” It was definitely tears streaming down her face, and not just the water collected in her hair. “I-I’ve been  _ touching myself _ , I can’t, i-it’s so-”

“It’s okay, I understand.  _ The Lord _ understands. 10 Hail Marys and 5 Our Fathers. You’re devote, but you’re still God’s child, and he does love you.” 

It was silent in Katya’s head. 

She could finally hear as the rain had stopped, the candles she barely registered seeing flickering their flames in their red glass, how soft hymns rang lightly in the rather large church. She also heard when Father Arnold got ready to leave the confessional. “Father?”

“Yes?”

“What if I-”

“Come back and we’ll pray together. Goodnight Katya, and drive well.”

“Thank you.” She whispered in response long after he had gone. 

In the car, sitting in her driveway, the rain came down in sheets once again. Katya wondered if this was the beginning of the Great Flood 2.0. It was spring, but she was reasonable, and it was simply spring showers, refreshing the earth for good growth. She wished she could grow, not in height or weight, she was comfortable in both, but in mentality.  

Katya’s known for 10 years now, and has hid it the entire time. College didn’t count, and it never would. She was doing well, and she will continue to do well, her sleepy thoughts finished for her.

_ “Like that, don’t we now?”  _

_ Violet had been fucking her for the better part of an hour, or maybe the better part of the night. Katya had slipped in past curfew, ‘studying’ late with another girl, but Violet could smell past the excuse, the girls period blood still heavily caked around Katyas fingers.  _

_ “Come on now, you can say it.” _

_ “Mhm mm!”  _

_ Vi had her body pressed on top of Katyas, stomach and breasts against her back, her fingers viciously working her clit. Katya had a tendency to cry out God’s name when Violet fucked her, and she was going to be spanked for doing it again. Francine next door had already complained about them being loud, and she didn’t want to risk a dorm administrator coming down to do night supervision for the rest of the semester.  _

_ “Katya-” Violet was panting her ear, “-say it for me now-” her breath was hot on Katyas skin, the mint of her toothpaste burning “-say it for me baby.” _

_ Katya pressed her face into the pillow, convulsing under Violets body, under her touch, screaming into the thick pillows, shaking as she mumbled  _ Oh God _ as one word over and over and over and over again.  _

_ “There you go baby.” Violet cooed softly in Katyas ear, lifting her body off hers and raising her hand up from her clit, her slim fingers skimming past her aching, noticeably empty pussy, and her butt hole before stroking her right cheek, and Katya braced herself for the first smack of many.  _

_ It was the same every time, a smack for each word of  _ Our Father _ , and Katya would get rewarded with being able to eat Vi out if she said each word correctly. She’d been working extra hard to remember each word, and her bruised ass being hard to sit on during lectures was well worth the constant tug on Katya’s roots by Violet. _

Katya woke up with a start, still in her car, not in her dorm, with no one else there to look down on her except the stars she could see from the now clear skies. 

Her neck hurt, her back hurt, her soul ached. She ignored the last of the three pains and went inside to rest her body on her bed. The next day was Monday, and Trixie had maybe a week left before she was scheduled to leave. She’d ordered tons of renovations, some more immediate than others, and Katya was warned that her floor would soon be coming up for fixing. 

She was going to call out sick. 

Trixie had to be drugging her, in some way. Maybe her perfume was a brain destabilizer that Trixie had built an immunity too and Katya hadn’t. Maybe she was paying Father Grant to put drugs in the staff coffee, and switching the cans from poisoned to regular when it was Katyas turn to make a fresh pot. Maybe it was a dust particle that she was putting in the air vents. Katya tossed and turned with each new theory, each one feeling more plausible than the last.   

It wasn’t until she had three hours left before her alarm blared at 6 AM that she got up and decided that  _ no _ , she would  _ not _ be calling out. She had to know the truth, had to know  _ why _ Trixie was there. It wasn’t to inspect and correct the school, no matter how potentially dangerous it was, it was for  _ Katya _ , to drive her mad with her rampant stomping and her stark blue eyes and her chewing gum and long hair that touched ground and sky. 

Trixie was a freak of nature, and she was working hard to drive her mad, but Katya was going to work harder to find out why. 

-

Trixie was absent the next day, as were the workers, and they stayed that way all week. 

Katya had went through her lessons, sweat dripping everywhere, falling down her skin and gathering at her collar, on the back of her bra, at the waist of her jeans. She taught with nervous energy, flying through topics and going back to review one's she skipped over. She felt bad for Damian, when he left class with more questions than he entered with, and she was sure he left with also a massive headache. 

The day after, she took extra time to go over their midterm answers, as had been overdue, and for each of her classes, she compiled a list of the topics they should focus on as they progressed through the remaining topics before it was time for the archdiocese to test them and determine whether they passed or failed the grade. After their after school prayers, she had calmed down considerably, and for the rest of the week, proceed with the false sense of peace. She knew Trixie was due back soon, she didn’t know why she had left, and after asking Father Grant, she didn’t know when she’d be returning. 

At night, it didn’t help that her insomnia fueled the now deemed ridiculous conspiracy theories she had conjured up in her head. But surely, Trixie had done something for her to have such a mind altering effect on her. 

_ Maybe it's all in my head. _ Katya had laughed on the way to work one morning when the thought arose, and she shook her head, growing annoyed now with her ridiculous way. 

Friday morning prayers were her favorite, the kids always said it with extra cheer, they didn’t have to do after school prayers, which meant they had a day of rest before they had to show their shining faces bright and early Sunday morning for mass. Father Grant always led the church and school with extra  _ soul _ , and the waves of energy never went unnoticed by Katya. 

Calm, after minutes, hours, days, weeks of unrest was the refreshed taste of something familiar after crashes of uncertainty that Katya had been desperately craving. She was still weary of all the other teachers who wore their heels, but their walking didn’t distress her. She felt confident that her little bouncing pupils had absorbed enough of the material so that she could show Disney movies and let them talk quietly amongst themselves without feeling guilt that their parents were wasting hundreds of dollars and time for  _ movies _ . 

The windows had been open since the kids left, and Katya had turned the AC off so she could enjoy the breeze, the wind carrying with it the scent of freshly cut grass from somewhere. She had no plans this weekend, her parents were out of town, and she was probably going to just sleep for a majority of it. The stress was melting away molecule by molecule, and she was deep in bliss when there was a knock at the door. Without as much as a second thought, Katya told whoever it was to enter. 

“Afternoon. Am I interrupting anything?” 

Katya had had her legs up and crossed on a sheet of paper on top of the desk, but she slid them down fast at the sound of the voice before, swiveling her chair. She didn’t wear a bra that day, she didn’t  _ want _ to, so she put some pasties on and threw on an extra thick sweater. Her tits bounced and swayed with her sudden movements, and she blushed as her eyes clashed with Trixies.

“Trixie. Hi, uh. N-no. Just. Here.” 

Trixie hummed, and it wasn’t until she moved from the doorway to sit on Katyas desk that she noticed that Trixie wasn’t wearing heels. She was wearing flats, she wasn’t stomping. Her hair only went up, it was in a tight bun on top of her head. She wasn’t chewing and popping her gum. Her eyes had soften to a delicate blue, almost pale, with less focus. 

“Wanna have dinner?”

“Excuse me?”

“Would you like to have dinner? We can go to my place or whatever restaurant you’re comfortable with.”

Katya studied Trixie, waiting to see if she’d crack into a malicious smile, a smirk, or even do one of those half smiles her students do when they’re really all that sorry about turning in an assignment late. She did none of those. The wind blew again, making the trees below rustle, and a hair flew out of place on Trixies bun. It looked big and full and heavy, and Katya wanted to take it down, run her fingers through her hair to see if it was as soft as it looked or even softer. 

She kept looking downwards, taking in details she didn’t allow herself to take in during all those other visits, her eyes going over the huge curvature of her breasts, the slight belly bulge, the way her high waisted pants were pulled up to high to the point were Katya could see the outline of her lips. 

“I can meet you at The Over tonight.” She found herself saying, just as Trixie was opening her mouth to maybe repeat herself or suggest a restaurant.

“Casual. I like that. Is 6 an okay time?”

Katya checked her little red plastic watch that was once purple, and saw that it was some time past 4. “8. Can we do 8?”  

Trixie nodded, stretching her arms upwards. It looked like she grew, and her fingertips could grace the twelve foot high classroom ceiling. Her shirt popped out from where it was tucked in her pants, showing how creamy and velvety soft her skin was, a closed hole above her belly button, a tell tale sign of her teenage years morphing into adulthood. “I’ll see you at 8.” Trixie said, her voice just slightly above a whisper, and she was gone, leaving Katya to be alone with her thoughts, the wind, and the birds loud chirping almost right outside her window. 

-

Inhale.

_ Our Father- _

Exhale.

_ -who art in heaven- _

Inhale.

_ -hallowed be thy name. _

Exhale.

Katya had arrived early at The Over, a place resting between the little suburbia esque and the city, next to the bridge that Katya crossed not to long along. It was two stories, the upper level was the unofficial quiet bar, where people went when they wanted to drink by themselves, but not in their own home. Katya had tried it many a times, and she liked it, but tonight she sat at a booth in the lower level, still on the same side of the door, but in the back with a large window to look out of. 

She kept feeling sweat trickle down her back, catching into the tucked in part of her shirt where the waits band of her only black pencil skirt rested on her waist. She’s had it since she first started college, and although it didn’t fit as snug as she thought it would, it was shorter than she remembered, reaching mid thigh as opposed to its original length of hitting her knees. She changed out of her thick sweater and into a regular t-shirt, forgetting to put a bra on and only noticed when she plopped herself down at the booth and her nipples brushed harshly against the hardly worn cream shirt. 

Trixie arrived five minutes after their agreed time, saying traffic was a mess, and Katya couldn’t agree more. Katya already had finished a vodka soda she was nursing, and she wanted to order another, but Trixie just ordered a coke, so Katya did the same. 

“Is this uncomfortable for you?”

“What? What makes you say that?”

“I say that because you haven’t stopped chewing your lip since I sat down.”

“Oh.”

Ten minutes had passed in a weird stretch of silence between them, with Trixie trying to get Katyas eyes to lock with hers and Katya looking everywhere else  _ except _ Trixie. There wasn’t much to look at in terms of decor, the place was a little small seating wise since the bar took up so much room. There were two more booths ahead of them and a few tall tables scattered around. There was a jukebox a few years ago, but someone had ran into it blindingly drunk, and there hadn’t been another since. In its place now was a plaque, reading ‘R.I.P. Old Faithful. Thanks a lot Kyle Erikson.’ 

Katya smiles whenever she remembers how one time she had silently gave the Last Rites to the jukebox a little tipsy. 

“I think I should go.” Trixie interrupted her thoughts, slipping her jacket back on and shimmying her way out from her side of the booth. 

“Trix-” 

Trixie stopped, one leg hanging out the chair. Under the light, soft but a horrid yellow, Katya could see the cracks in her makeup, how tired she was, how much older she looked. It wasn’t a mistreatment, but an almost ‘I’ve been around longer than I let on’ kind of vibe. “Yes Katya?”

“-I. Can I at least have your number?”

“Sure.” Trixie said, bringing her leg in, telling Katya her number digit by digit before giving her an apologetic smile and leaving the bar. Katya slumped back and sighed, rubbing her hands on her face, being glad she doesn’t wear makeup. 

It wasn’t until after her shower that Katya texted Trixie, her hands shaking with each word she typed. 

Katya:

‘I’m sorry about tonigt.’ [9:05 P.M.]

Katya:

‘tonight*’ [9:06 P.M.]

Trixie:

‘It’s fine.’ [9:14 P.M.]

Katya:

‘Would you like to try again?’ [9:16 P.M.]

Trixie didn’t respond, and Katya went to bed not even an hour later. 

-

It didn’t seem fair to her students that they’d have to deal with a sleepy teacher that Monday, so Katya called out. Father Grant called her an hour later, concerned since she had never called out before in the four years she had been working there, and she told him that she was sick. She felt bad for lying, and she felt bad for not praying for forgiveness, but her body felt worse. 

Trixie:

‘Playing hooky are we?’ [11:12 A.M.]

Katya stared at her phone, fighting to keep them in focus as she read and reread the text staring right back at her. 

Katya:

‘And if I am?’ [11:20 A.M.]

She had no clothes on, and her house was still cool, but her internal temperature rose, and she knew her skin was growing blotchy. But on she pressed, wondering where it could go, where it could end up. 

Trixie:

‘It’d make you a bad girl.’ [11:21 A.M.]

She was sweating, hard, and her mind grew fuzzy. She’d heard those words once before, whispered in her ear, whispered in between her legs, said loudly within a laugh. 

Katya:

‘Maybe I’ve always been a bad girl.’ [11:23 A.M.]

Trixie:

‘Sure.’ [11:24 A.M.]

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

_ Fuck. _

Of course, of  _ fucking course _ , Katya’d say the wrong thing. 

Trixie:

‘What are you doing today?’ [11:45 A.M.]

Oh.

Katya:

‘Nothing, why?’ [11:46 A.M.]

Trixie:

‘Can I come over? What’s your address?’ [11:47 A.M.]

-

When Katya first had sex with Violet, it wasn’t altogether gentle. The kissing was, but everything after was a blur of hair pulling and kneeling and slapping and spanking and loud moans. Since graduation, she’s only had her hand, hadn’t bothered in buying any toys or vibrators, or letting anyone know she was interested in any gender besides male. 

So sure, she doesn’t wear heels and has an extensive collection of Vans and Converse and Doc Martins in different shades that she pairs with her shirts and sweaters. And of course, some days it was difficult to not stare at women while going home and  _ sure _ at the beginning, she had to keep reminding herself to refocus her eyes because the women she worked with were her  _ coworkers _ .

That meant nothing.

There was one time when it was about a month after Violet and her had started fucking, that they had a “cute” day together. Katya was home sick and stayed in, and Violet had woken up with aggressive cramps, something she begrudgingly admitted happened once every few months with her change of cycles. They didn’t feel better until that night, and they cuddled up in Violet’s bed because she had more cushions, and watched Netflix holding hands. They cuddled close, and before falling asleep, Katya asked if she could kiss Violet. 

Violet was the first girl she had ever kissed, and it wasn’t anything like she imagined. It wasn’t to wet or rough, there was no love. There was compassion and care, and Violet was gentle, her hand on Katyas cheek. They went at it for some time, and Katya went to bed, knowing that she’d keep that kiss store in the back of her mind for the rest of her life. They never spoke about about it again until the last day together, with Violet thanking her for being such a sweet kisser.  

“You know you're cute, right?” 

Trixies voice brought her out of her head, veering her off the lane of memories and into the present. She knew she was cute, she had a nice little body, her lips were full and her eyes were bright, and she's been told many of times her face has been chiseled by God. But Trixie probably didn't mean it the way Katya was thinking it. 

“Mhm?”

“Yeah. Father Grant told me about you. Said you've been praying a lot. Penny for your prayers?”

“Mhm mhm.” 

“Tsk. Oh.” 

Katya had let her in, who knows how long ago, with nothing but her robe on. She entertained her, drinking tea with her when Trixie had asked her to join her, giving her a tour of her home; she showed her the two bedrooms upstairs, the half bathroom, kitchen, living room, and conjoined dining room downstairs, and the laundry room slash storage room that was the basement. Trixie flirted with her and she flirted back until somehow, ultimately, Trixie had backed her up against the wall. 

Kissing Trixie, obviously, was different than kissing Violet. It was feverish and harsh, a objective means to an end, with the end being the unknown part of the equation. Trixie was behind her, having pinned Katya down so her ass was up and her face was in a pillow, but she felt each word hitting her like puffs of breath against her cheek. They were both naked, and Katya can't remember for the life of her what Trixie had been wearing, but she could see the hint of a pink garment. 

Trixie's hands had a way of making Katya come undone, shake her core and rattle the words of the Lord's Prayer beyond recognition.

She was there and then she wasn't. She could focus and then she couldn't. She could speak and then her mouth couldn't move beyond an ‘O’ shape. Everything made sense and then nothing did. 

She wanted to run, to hide from each emotion and expression and sensation she's ever had since meeting Trixie, from those first clicks of her heels against old wood behind the altar she's seen for so many years now. She wanted to never see blonde hair that can touch clouds and floors simultaneously, she never wanted to hear another woman's heel pound against the floor, never hear the obnoxious pops from bubble gum. 

But her hands were wonders, drawing her close to the shore and pushing her into the crashing waves that hurled her into an ocean of overwhelming pleasure. She didn't feel wrong for being a part of it, for enjoying it, for feeling the need,  _ the want _ to do it again seep into her bones, into the very main frame of her being a person. She had no problem allowing Trixie to handle her in a way that only dream Katya could imagine; teasing her relentlessly, calling her naughty for acting so innocent yet doing such unholy things the day after the Lord's day. She fell in love with the obscene way her pussy sounded, being so fucking drenched and pounded with thick fingers with an almost reckless abandon. She was hot and sweaty, spent and boneless, but she felt as if she could never get her fill, that she'd never receive enough spanks, that she can never get choked hard enough, that her pussy would never be full with enough fingers, that her ears could never hear enough dirty words. 

She came, one final time, not with God's name threatening to spill past her lips to shame her for her acts once more, but with  _ Trixies _ . 

-

Katya woke up sweating, hot, wet and confused to her alarm blaring at her. She checked and it was 6 AM, Wednesday, and Trixie the building inspector was going to be roaming around the school during the afternoon. Her head hurt, and she took a painkiller mid breakfast, and she could only chalk it up to maybe sleeping too little. 

At school, she had to fight to cram two lessons into one since Trixie had emptied out the class the day before, and she really felt bad for Damian who she knew would be to confused to comprehend up from down and left from right by the time class finished, but midterms were two weeks away and she  _ really  _ needed them prepared. It was more for the teachers than the students, so Katya could see just how far or behind they were academically, but she did need to see that they were on the right enough path that she definitively say they were going to pass the state tests at the end of the year. 

After class was lunch, and as she settled down to enjoy her salad with croutons and iced berry tea, she could hear the stomping and gum popping of a certain woman as she made her way to Katyas classroom. She stood up and smoothed down her front, a smile coming to her face as she watched Trixie walk in. 

“Miss Zam-”

“Trixie, hi! You can just call me Katya.” 

“Okay-” Trixie laughed, extending her hand to shake Katya outreached one “-hello Katya.” 

Trixies eyes weren’t disturbingly striking, or pale, but a nice calm blue. Her hair didn't glow, or touched the ceiling and her waist line at the same time. It was thick, yes, but her ponytail was high and her hair only reached to the middle of her back. 

“Say Trixie I-” Katya stopped herself, unable to think of what to say to follow that. She couldn't say she dreamed of her drinking because Trixie stressed her and her colleagues out, or that she had disappeared for a week before inviting her for a dinner that turned very awkward very fast, and she especially couldn't tell her the part of her dream where Trixie did everything that Katya ever fantasized about. But she started the sentence, so she was going to finish it. “-wanna have lunch with me? We can go-”

“Sure! Oh! Sorry!” Trixie giggled, removing her hand and covering her mouth as she did so, turning a shade of pretty pink. “How about Friday at my place? I just moved so I'm trying to save money.”

Katya was startled, that wasn't at all what she had in mind, what was burned in her memory, and she laughed at the change of events “sure!” She gasped out. Trixie looked confused, but Katya couldn't tell her why, and when she stopped laughing Trixie didn't push for an explanation, so they exchanged numbers before Trixie left Katya alone to enjoy her lunch by herself.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ily thanx 4 reading <3


End file.
